Unexpected Consequences
by LittleGiblet
Summary: Post-Recoil. Ziva's actions have consequences. Will contain spanking.
1. Chapter 1

Mmmkay. I hope this matches up with the episode okay, as I was only able to watch it once. You might want to read my first fic, Ziva, Ziva, Ziva, as this story kind of needs it to make sense. If you read this, and you want to know what happens next, please review- so that I'll know to continue. It helps build my self esteem, too.

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Ziva pounded away at the keyboard- wishing, at that moment, that her computer skills were superior to that which they were. McGee had started the search for Devon's current contact information before he had left work, and the instructions he left Ziva on how to continue had seemed simple enough, but Ziva struggled as she tried to apply them. She was lost in a kaleidoscope of databases and social security numbers when the hair on the back of her neck instinctively stood up. She flashed to the crucial, precious moments before she had almost allowed that woman-killing psycho to end her life. She wasn't about to let those moments escape again. Without thinking, she spun around and let her fist make contact with the jaw of the psycho bastard behind her.

"Jesus, Ziva!"

Well, she had the bastard part right. Sleep deprivation, Ziva decided, was not as cute on her as it was on Abby.

"Oh, Gibbs, I-"

Gibbs held the right side of his jaw with one hand, and pushed Ziva back down into her chair with the other.

"What the hell was that?"

"I thought that you were…" Ziva trailed off, "I do not know who I thought you were."

Gibbs glared at her, hard, but the confusion behind his eyes was evident. Ziva watched him awkwardly; too afraid to move, as he tried to process what had just happened.

"What are you doing here?" She ventured tentatively.

Gibbs removed his hand from his jaw, finally convinced that is wasn't going to fall off. "Would you mind accompanying me to the interrogation room?" He said by way of an answer.

Ziva's eyes widened, remembering their last trip to the damn interrogation room. Tony called it Gibbs' version of a woodshed. She hadn't actually understood he meant by that, but she had understood that the whipping Gibbs had given her had left her unable to sit comfortably for hours.

"You are going to-" Gibbs cut her off with a curt nod. He then took her wrist and began leading her towards the elevator.

"Because I was almost killed, Gibbs?" She allowed herself to be pulled along, even as the desperation in her voice rose. She hated the way she sounded, broken and vulnerable. "Because when we talked, in autopsy, you said-"

"I'm not going to punish you for that." Gibbs gently pushed her into the elevator.

Ziva breathed a sigh a relief. She could not have taken being forced to relieve that experience as Gibbs' belt crashed across her backside. But, then..

"I punched you." She nodded emphatically, "That is why, yes?"

"No, but that didn't help your case." Gibbs said wryly.

The elevator dinged, and the door opened at their destination, but Ziva didn't move. She was going soft. It had been evident to her the moment she had hesitated with the psycho-asshole, but now the mere fact that Gibbs was angry with her was enough to make her tear up. She had been pushing people away all day.. but at that moment she desperately wanted someone to comfort her. She hated herself for it.

Gibbs' steely glare brought her out of her thoughts, and she obeyed as he gestured for her to exit the elevator.


	2. Chapter 2

So, this is a little clunky. I lost my first version of it when my computer spazzed and I can't seem to get it right again. I hope you enjoy it anyway. Please review. Oh, and it's three am, and I'm not good at catching typos when during the day, let alone now. So I'm sorry if there are some major ones.. I tried.

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Ziva pulled herself up onto the table in the interrogation room, she was a little weak on her feet, and she didn't want Gibbs to see her struggle to stand up straight. She was still trying to figure out what she was doing there, because up until she "accidentally" decked Gibbs on the jaw, she thought that she had held it together fairly well. She had tried her hardest to project the fearless image she knew people expected. It hadn't been easy given the circumstances, but she was disappointed in how often she had fallen apart over the past three years. She had cried more in front of Gibbs than anyone and it had to stop. She couldn't stand the idea of Gibbs viewing her as vulnerable and weak.

Gibbs eyes were on her as she studied her shoes. She flinched when he brought his hand to her chin, tilting it upward, forcing her to make eye contact. She took a deep breath; she had avoided direct eye contact with anyone lately because she was afraid of what could be read through it.

"Are you okay?" His eyes were searching hers, looking for his answer. She felt her breath hitch, and her eyes welled up at his concern. Damn it, she thought inwardly, she would not break again.

"I am fine." The words were so familiar; they slipped off her tongue easily, even as she fought to keep control.

Anger flashed in Gibbs' eyes, he grabbed her arm and hauled her off the table, turning her body so that she had a clear view of her reflection in the one-way mirror.

"Do you look fine?"

Ziva studied her reflection for a moment. No, she didn't. She looked like shit.

"I have looked worse." It was the wrong thing to say, but she knew that before she said it. Gibbs pulled her close to him, so that they were practically nose to nose.

"You are very lucky that I was not around then."

Ziva's stomach fluttered. It was an oddly familiar feeling, the same squeamish sensation that she experienced when her father was angry with her.

Gibbs released his grip on her, and he promptly began pacing. Ziva pulled herself back up onto the table, knowing that he was going into full lecture mood.

"I think you are a coward." Ziva was completely unprepared for that.

"What?" She had no other response, his words had stung.

He was still pacing; "is the idea of dealing with this situation really _that_ scary?"

"I have been here, through all of this, helping you solve the case!" Ziva couldn't help but baulk.

"Yeah, against my orders, I told you to _go home_!" Gibbs stopped in front of her and pinned her with his gaze. "You were not here to help with the case; you were doing anything to avoid thinking about what happened to you!"

"What is wrong with that!?" The words had flown out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop them. She had officially confessed to the crime, and backed herself into the corner.

But Gibbs didn't look triumphant, "You saw yourself," he indicated he mirror, "you figure it out." He was silent for a moment, before he continued; "This is a dangerous job Ziva, we get injured all the time… We lose partners, team mates, friends..." He shook his head, "The fact that you have _let_ yourself end up in this condition is ridicules."

The tears were forming behind her eyes, but Ziva was not willing to give up her battle yet. Gibbs was wrong. She was not a coward, and she would make it through this without crying.

"I will recover, Gibbs."

"That isn't the point, and I think you know that."

Ziva chewed the inside of her lip, mulling over her words carefully, "What do you want from me?" Gibbs sighed; he pulled himself up onto the table next to Ziva.

"You should have talked to me. I thought we trusted each other."

Ziva couldn't take the guilt trip any longer, she tried holding her breath in a futile attempt to keep the tears from flowing, but the flood gates opened as she let out a choked sob.

"I do trust you, it's just-"

Gibbs reached out to touch her, but Ziva quickly pushed his arm away. "Just what?"

"I c-cannot stand having anyone see me like this," Ziva desperately tried to regain control, "Especially not you," but the sobs continued to wrack her small frame. She tried to keep her distance from Gibbs, but he fought her shoves, and he managed to cup her cheek. "My father would be so disappointed."

"Ziva…" Gibbs thumb brushed gently across her cheek.

"That is probably the stupidest thing I've ever heard." Ziva cocked her head at him, surprised.

"Do I look like your father?"

"No, my father has a dark complexion and a-"

"That was rhetorical." Gibbs shook his head, he had been doing a lot of that, "If you weren't already in enough trouble, I'd take you over my knee for even _thinking _that this would make me think less of you."

"But," Ziva trembled, "how can it not?"

"Because," Gibbs slipped an arm around her shoulder, "it takes far more courage to talk about your problems, and deal with them, than it does to put on a brave face and strut around insisting that you're okay."

"Oh," Ziva wiped the tears that had splashed down her cheeks, "well that is nice to know." Gibbs sighed in exasperation, cuffing her gently on the side of the head.

"Are you still going to…?"

"Yes."

Ziva had to admit that she felt relieved, having finally let herself go, but she couldn't relax until they had dealt with the matter at hand. "Can we just do it?"

Gibbs understood her desire to it over with, so he didn't waste anytime standing up and getting pulling his belt through the loops. Ziva started to bend over the table, but Gibbs' hand on her shoulder stopped her. "No," he backed up, "you are too weak- you won't be able to hold yourself up."

Ziva's eyes narrowed, she started to protest, but Gibbs cut her off.

"It wasn't a challenge Ziva, get over here." Ziva hesitantly walked over to Gibbs, unsure of what he was going to do with her.

He gently turned her around and flipped her over his arm, positioning her so that he was holding the brunt of her weight. He brought the belt down three times, fast and hard. Ziva cried out, still surprised by just how much that damn belt hurt.

"I want to get two things straight," Gibbs spoke, as he laid down another three strikes, "I don't care if you feel strong enough to run a marathon, if I tell you to go home, you go home."

"I will."

"And you will not allow yourself to end up in this condition again, even if it means having to confide in Dinozzo."

Gibbs was not going easy on her due to her weakened state; the spanking was every bit as painful as the last one she had endured.

He had given Ziva fifteen strokes before she realized that she had instinctively held in her tears, not allowing herself to react to the pain. As Gibbs landed the last five hits, she allowed herself to dissolve into sobs, finally completely letting go of the pain she had been holding in for the past few days.

She barely noticed Gibbs setting down the belt and shifting her position in his arms. She didn't give in to the desire to push him away. She slowly melted into the embrace, and her sobs quieted as he rubbed soothing circles on her back. They stayed in that position for awhile before Gibbs finally spoke.

"You need to sleep. I'll drive you home."

"What about my car?"

"I'll pick you up in the morning."

Ziva had wanted to finish her search for Devon that night, but she didn't think that asking Gibbs to let her stick around was a good idea. She could get it done the next day.

"Okay." Ziva had started toward the door when Gibbs landed a solid swat on her backside. She turned back to him, indignant, "What was that for!?"

"That was on behalf of my jaw."


End file.
